Chapter 8

After breakfast Wiccan spent most of his time reading the book he had found. Only when Cassie came to collect him for lunch did he realize just how much time had passed.

When he stood up and headed for the dining hall he realized just how sore he was from sitting around all day. His knees ached, his back hurt from hunching over the faded pages in the leather bound book and his eyes even felt sore from the small print.

Dorrek wasn't in the hall for lunch but one of Cassie's helpers did scoot through the room carrying a tray with a lid on it he assumed was going to the blonde. Part of Wiccan hoped he was resting, it would help the healing go by faster – especially since all magic seemed to do very little.

As he picked at his plate Wiccan tried to come up with some way he could help more. But he was no doctor, he'd done the best he could giving Dorrek stitches but outside of that all he really was able to do was apply bandages.

Sighing he got up from the table and his half eaten food and decided to walk around the castle. Maybe he'd find a distraction, or come up with an idea. There was no worse feeling then being useless, not to mention when outside of this place he was capable of so much. It made him feel like a burden, even if his presence here was not at all his own doing, or choice.

He passed a tall door and heard rustling inside. He stopped and hesitated. He had the urge to knock but reminded himself this wasn't his home and it might be rude to pry someplace he didn't belong. A shudder went through him at what had happened the last time he'd wandered into a room he wasn't supposed to be in.

But then he heard something fall and a muffled cuss followed. He smiled recognizing the voice – Kate. Comforted by knowing she was inside he stepped closer and knocked on the thick door.

"You can come in Wiccan." Her reply echoed and he opened the door revealing a lavish sitting room, maybe a place guests would have tea or meet for a brandy. Kate was on a ladder making her way down to pick up the feather duster that had fallen on the floor.

"Kate." He greeted her, "How did you know it was me?"

She smiled up at him her mismatched eyes now a matching shade of swamp green. "You're the only one here who would knock Wiccan."

He blushed and looked at his feet stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"What were you doing?" he asked changing the subject and eyeing the other things Kate had balanced on the top step of the ladder.

"Cleaning." She replied taking the duster and starting back up the ladder. "We've let some of the excess rooms fall into disarray over the years. With no one here we lost our motivation." She turned to him and grinned widely with joy gleaming in her eyes, "But now that you're here there just seems to be reason again."

"Kate none of you have to go through all this trouble just because I'm here –" he tried to reason.

"Please." She scoffed, "Do you know what it's like to be so depressed in a grey, dusty, dark, cold embassy? You've given us a reason to get out of bed in the morning, for that we're truly grateful."

He looked around the room and noticed how much work it would need, not to mention all the dozens of other rooms this place probably held. There was a layer of dust on each shelf of each bookcase, the furniture was all covered in white cloths equally covered in dust, and every gold or copper embellishment looked dim.

"Well at least let me help you." He insisted moving to the closest wing backed chair and carefully folding up the cloth to keep the dust inside and not send it falling onto the expensive looking rug.

"Are you sure?" Kate asked seeming hesitant to let a guest clean.

In reply Wiccan raised his hand and with a flick all the other white cloths rose and folded themselves before piling neatly on top of each other. He turned to Kate and smirked, she grinned back at him with a shake of her head.

"Well if you insist." She agreed before going back to dusting a gold sconce high on the wall preparing it for the bottle of polish she had next to her elbow. Wiccan went about with a second rag polishing candlesticks and wiping off clockfaces. He only used his magic when something was out of his reach, since he still intended to save as much as he could. But the task gave him an opportunity to give back to the people who had been so kind to him and after a moment or two he and Kate found themselves talking like they were old friends.

.


.

Noh had Av-rom carry Speed's unconscious body over his shoulder. He walked several steps in front of his friend as they trekked back through the woods trying to find where they'd left their car. After the wild goose chase Speed had taken them on it was hard for Noh to remember each turn they'd taken. He could of course follow the highway back but he didn't want drivers to see them hauling Shepherd, it was too conspicuous.

"So what are we going to do with Shepherd?" Av-rom asked in a straining voice as he readjusted Speed's body on his shoulder. "Bring him back to the Warden?"

"I'd thought about that." Noh replied breaking a few branches in front of them and clearing their path forward. "But there's too high of a chance he'd escape. We can't risk him running off to the Avengers."

"So then what are we –"

Noh stopped walking making Av-rom nearly crash into him as he looked to his left. The rocky mountain continued upward at a sharp angle but not too sharp that hiking it was impossible.

"The best chance is to probably just haul him over the cliff at the top of the mountain." He grumbled, the image of Speed falling to his death very satisfying to his mind.

He turned to Av-rom with a smirk, "People fall taking selfies all the time." He scoffed rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Humans. Besides, no one will miss Tommy Shepherd."

Noh knew all about the speedster from his file the Warden had created. 'Adoptive' parents divorced, birthmother missing, birthfather unknown. In his early teenage years he'd run off and caused enough trouble that obviously his parents didn't care where he went or how long he was gone. Any records of contact now where to his adoptive mother and even those trips were infrequent. There was no one who would report his disappearance.

"His brother –" Av-rom began to suggest before Noh cut him off.

"Wiccan will have bigger problems once we get him to the Cube."

Then there was a loud snap and they looked up just in time to notice a large branch falling. They dove out of the way, Speed falling from Av-rom's shoulder and tumbling in a different direction. The two Kree recovered and quickly got back to their feet. Their muscles were tense and they looked around in case of any incoming threat – an instinct from training in the Kree army. But all fell silent in the forest once more as the adrenaline wore off and their muscles unclenched.

Noh gave a commanding nod to Av-rom jutting his chin in Speed's direction. His friend moved forward to collect their captive again when a snarling reached their ears. Noh pulled out the high-tech Kree weapon he had concealed under his jacket and aimed it at the bushes to the left, then to the right, looking for the source of the menacing sound. Av-rom backpedaled toward his armed friend caring more about his safety then collecting Shepherd.

One bush rustled and a shaggy wolf with cuts across his face stalked forward glaring at them with piercing yellow eyes. Two more flanked him and when they got too close Noh fired a warning shot in front of their feet. The pack hesitated, then one noticed Speed lying unconscious on the ground off to the side and closer to the pack. It snarled and ran for Shepherd and Noh saw his chance.

"Run!" he shouted and took off with Av-rom on his heels.

"But what about –"

"They'll dispose of him for us. Don't worry about it." He replied as they ran back in the direction of their vehicle, putting as much distance as they could from the hungry predators.

The wolf that had lunged for Speed however, suddenly froze. His eyes turned purple and he didn't move an inch, his fur didn't even blow in the wind. The other wolves who had been following him to their fresh meat became statues as well, their eyes also glowing violet. Speed groaned as he began to wake from his tasing and someone crouched down and rested a hand on his shoulder.

With the little energy he had he turned over and looked up at Agatha. Her curly hair was down from its usual pinup style and she looked at him with an empty expression.

"Come on, up you get." Were the first words from her mouth as she helped him off the ground. She wove an arm across his back supporting him under his arms as he stumbled to his feet. He hadn't felt this weak since his time in the Cube and Noh-var's threat came rushing back to him.

"My brother!" he cried and tried to shake Agatha off. But the moment her grip loosened he was stumbling forward again. Agatha's hold on him was the only thing that kept him from tumbling over back into the dirt and she held tight as she led him away.

"Shhh, shhhh. You're no good to him in your condition. Come." She said softly and he realized he had no choice but to follow her. Without her he couldn't even stand.

As she hobbled him along he noticed the frozen wolves and he coughed to clear his throat before he asked her, "Did you do that?"

"Yes." She replied casually, "But they don't obey me if that's what you're thinking. So we need to keep going before it wears off."

He didn't ask what 'it' was, instead he focused on taking one step in front of the other. Agatha kept an eye out for any roots or stones that would trip him up and carefully guided him around any she saw.

She led him away from the highway further into the forest. They passed a babbling brook and several trees that he really couldn't distinguish between each other, they all looked the same. He felt the little energy he had lessen as he forced his body to keep moving. Agatha kept a sturdy grip on him until they reached a small shack, or cabin, at the base of the mountain. But it wasn't made of logs like a normal cabin, it looked more like sticks held together by twine. She pushed open the rough wooden door and brought him inside. The door – like the rest of the structure – was only branches held together by bits of rope and long grass.

Inside there was a small cot, a low table and a wood stove taking up the small space. The roof was fabric woven together and pulled tight across the top and the little shack had no windows, the walls just the same tied together wood that allowed light to peek through.

Agatha set him down on the cot and he leaned back against the shabby pillows propped against the wall. She moved about quickly pouring something from the kettle on the stove into a clay cup, then passed it to him. She took his hand and squeezed his fingers around it to make sure he wouldn't drop the beverage then softly ordered, "Drink."

He did as she asked and brought the cup to his lips. The liquid inside tasted like berries and honey and the warmth helped him feel better from the inside out. He continued to sip at it as Agatha watched.

When he was nearly done he pulled his lips back, "Thank you Agatha."

She gave him a small smile before getting up and moving about her abode again as he finished the drink.

.


.

The rest of the day in the castle passed by pretty uneventfully. Dorrek would sleep for a few hours then get up, walk around a bit and eat something, then take another nap. The pattern repeated as his body got the rest it needed. When Dorrek was awake Wiccan would divide that time between reading in some nook of the castle and helping Kate or Cassie with one thing or another. But when Dorrek was asleep Wiccan would sneak back into his room and try another healing spell and check his bandages as he slept on his side.

He pushed away all the thoughts from earlier about his smile and kinder attitude and focused solely on the gruesome cuts and bite marks that adorned the larger man's body. His hero work had helped desensitize him to gory things like injuries so thankfully he could be as professional as possible.

Unfortunately he didn't have enough magic to work very long and once it ran out he was back to being useless. He helped Kate as much as she would allow but even she set limits not wanting to overwork him or take advantage of his kindness. When he had nothing to do but read, he read, but unlike when Dorrek was awake Wiccan would read by the vanity close to the door as he let his magic recharge. That way he could continue to use his healing spells in secret and when Dorrek would stir Wiccan would creep out the door unseen.

He was getting quite a bit read from that book and he was finding it rather enjoyable. Whether the stories he read were fact or fiction he didn't care. The Skrull and Kree races fascinated him along with the advancements in technology he'd only seen before in comic books or at the Stark Expo.

Dinner though was the only time since breakfast that Wiccan actually saw Dorrek while he was awake. He'd made it to the dining hall first and had the book propped up in his lap so the table covered the title on the front. He was reading about Mar-vel's first encounters with the Skrull race when Dorrek entered with his arm now in a sling to help keep his shoulder from moving. The blonde sat at the chair all the way at the other end of the table and Wiccan glanced up only once. Dorrek's blue eyes met his brown ones and he gave a small smile and a nod of his head which Wiccan returned.

Cassie brought dinner out with her staff and the pair ate in silence. Wiccan assumed the meal would be awkward but there was a peacefulness in the silence. He didn't feel any harsh glares from Dorrek and when he looked up from his plate Dorrek was eating at a calm pace not seeming in a rush to get away from him. Occasionally he'd readjust his sling or his arm that was cradled on his lap. Billy used his book as a reason to avoid conversation and Dorrek seemed fine with that. After so many days and nights eating alone he found he rather enjoyed the quiet company Wiccan brought now that the hostility between them had dissolved.

The young man wasn't much for talking at mealtimes it seemed and Dorrek liked that. After all, dinner was a time to eat not to chat. He internally rolled his eyes thinking back to all the dinners Kl'rt had hosted with Lords, Prime Ministers and other important figures of government. They all liked to talk during dinner, mainly about the most boring things. Bills and laws being passed or vetoed, bragging about military or economical advances they had, amendments, court rulings and other things. Being raised to rule one day Dorrek didn't mind those topics - in a proper setting like a council chamber or meeting in an office. But at the dinner table it just seemed so boring. Did people in power really have nothing else to talk about? He shook his head ridding himself of those thoughts, perhaps it was one small silver lining to his circumstances.

When their food was done Cassie came to clear it, also giving Dorrek a soft order to get to bed early for his health. The green man rolled his eyes and Cassie chuckled and Wiccan spied on their moment from over the worn leather cover. It was like Dorrek was an entirely different person - when his anger wasn't getting the best of him. But it was clear to Wiccan that these people were more then his servants, they were his friends. Billy looked around the ornate room again and remembered all the shows about royals and their lives and how oftentimes it was so much stricter then fairytales made it out to be. They often had little choice in what they were supposed to do, who they were supposed to interact with, almost every moment of their lives was planned out for them regardless of what they wanted. Maybe Dorrek hadn't been allowed to have friends, so he'd made friends with the staff his age. That would mean that he would have gone most of his childhood without a friend - if Cassie, Kate and Eli hadn't been a part of the castle's staff until their late teens or early twenties. Wiccan felt another wave of guilt wash over him for making unfair assumptions. He thought about his first interaction with the Beast, had all that anger been coming from a place of deep pain? That would explain what Kate might have meant last night when she'd muttered about Dorrek having a difficult upbringing.

Cassie ruffled Dorrek's hair and Wiccan suddenly felt like he was an intruder on a private moment. So he stood up, took his book with him and headed out.

"It was delicious Cassie, thanks." He told her and she smiled in response before going back to joking with Dorrek.

Climbing the many stairs back to his room made the strains in Wiccan's body worsen. His muscles, that were still sore and healing too, were now stiff and uncomfortable. By the time he made it to the hall of the east wing everything ached. So he decided to take another hot bath before bed. He didn't really need to get clean, but the hot soak would be good for his muscles. He looked down at his hand and conjured a dim blue light. He sighed. Maybe he should have used at least one or two of those healing spells on himself. He curled his hand into a fist as the light faded away. No, that would be selfish, if all he needed was a couple hot baths a day to help him that was a blessing. Dorrek needed the more magical help. The image of his cuts flashed through Wiccan's mind and he shuddered counting his blessings as he rested his book on the bedside table and headed for the bathroom.

Meanwhile Dorrek finished talking to Cassie before heading back to his chamber too. He stopped where the steps branched off to the opposite wing and got lost in his thoughts. He knew Wiccan had been coming to check up on him. Kate did tell him nearly everything after all. He also knew Kate well enough to know she was plotting something in that scheming little head of hers, but of course if she wasn't she wouldn't be Kate would she?

His feet seemed to make the decision before his mind did and he found himself heading into the east wing. He noticed how much less deteriorated it was and wondered if the magic rose was destroying the parts of the castle closest to it before spreading out to the rest of his home.

That was one of the things he hated about this curse the most. It wasn't bad enough that he could be stuck in this form forever but his friends all had to suffer too, his home had to crumble into ruins and everyone in the world had to forget about him and his species. As much as he wanted to blame it all on the enchantress he just couldn't. He knew what a prick he'd been and now he had to pay for it.

By the time he'd made it to Wiccan's room the guilt of his past actions was already on the verge of swallowing him up. He knocked on the door but pushed it open before getting an answer. It was his castle after all, and Dorrek was still getting used to asking permission in his own home and not simply demanding things.

"Wiccan, are you awa-" he paused seeing the young mage standing in the center of the room looking over his shoulder at him. He was wearing only his slacks and had cotton pajama bottoms and the matching shirt in his hands. It looked like he'd been getting ready for bed but Dorrek also noticed the door to the bathroom open and he could hear slow running water.

For the first time Dorrek could see the bruises from the attack that painted Wiccan's skin like watercolors. Splotches of brown, blue, yellow and purple dotted his skin. There were several across his back, small ones along his ribs and the bumps of his spine and one shoulder blade carried the largest one that was a deep purple and looked to be the worst – until he turned slightly. On his front were more but the blueish black one along one side of his ribs concerned Dorrek the most, the edges were reddish purple and tender looking. Wiccan stood there waiting for Dorrek to finish the sentence he'd started but a new one took its place.

"You're hurt." He choked out, his throat dry from his slightly embarrassing pause.

Wiccan shrugged, "Not as badly as you. I'll be fine." Then he fiddled with the cotton shirt undoing the buttons so he could put it on. Dorrek looked back at Wiccan's skin double checking for any cuts he might have sustained but while he was doing so his mind took an unintentional turn. His concern quickly turned into something else as he noticed how toned the thin young man was. His assumption that Wiccan was a hero only solidified. His arms were muscular but not enough that you'd see it through a shirt, his chest and abdomen held the same standard. Lines crossing over his stomach hinted at abs and when he turned to put on the shirt the muscles in his back flexed and stirred something in Dorrek's stomach that made him suddenly nervous.

Dorrek had never paid attention to any kind of orientation before, given that he would most likely have had some form of arranged marriage. So he never saw any point, no matter what he liked he'd have to marry in a way that aided his people, find a match that would better their political, military and economical standing. So sexual preference was something he'd ignored. But he now had to question if the nausea in his gut, the increased heart rate in his chest and the clamminess of his palms was part of some kind of attraction.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Wiccan groaned because he had stretched the wrong way sliding his arms into the shirt. He tried to hide it but Dorrek had heard.

The guilt from only moments ago doubled as his mind reminded him that even though Wiccan had run in the first place it was Dorrek who was to blame. Wiccan was here because of him, Wiccan had run because of him.

I have to make it up to him.

Dorrek cleared his throat and Wiccan turned back around finishing the last of the buttons.

"Have you gotten a tour of the grounds yet?" Dorrek asked and Wiccan's face was overcome with confusion as his dark brows pulled together. Dorrek tried to keep the conversation casual and leaned against the doorframe on his good arm. "I – I know Kate mentioned she showed you around the castle a bit on your first day here."

"She did." Wiccan replied unsure of where this was going. "But not outside."

Dorrek swallowed nervously and shrugged to try and appear nonchalant, "There's more than a few acres of land. I can show you tomorrow if you want. It's nicer then being cooped up in here all day."

Wiccan's suspicious and confused gaze softened and one of his hands began to tug at the side of his pants giving his fingers something to play with, though he still looked like a deer caught in headlights, "I'd like that."

Dorrek nodded to himself, a small smile succeeding in tugging up one corner of his mouth for a brief second. "Then I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well."

He turned and left and just before the door closed he heard Wiccan's quiet reply, "You too."